Night Owls
by Salad-bitch
Summary: Lou is a recently conscripted Heart Pirate chef, dedicated to her work and to her beloved Captain, Trafalgar D. Law. In spite of her obvious attraction to the 'Surgeon of Death', their relationship blossoms during the late hours of the night over cups of strong coffee and the food she so desperately wants him to love as much as she does him.
1. The One With the Fight

Hey guys, this is my new story 'Night Owls', hope you guys enjoy it and thank you for reading. P.S. if you review and would like a short minor story/mini one shot at the beginning of the story involving my OC Lou and any of the characters (smut, fluff, crack, anything you like) I'll be more than happy to include them in the next chapter!

Thanks xx

Gentle slopes of grass that bent beneath the weight of an incoming breeze and tiny waves that lapped at the stony beach greeted the pirates as they docked at the unmemorable port town with a similarly unmemorable name. A short cobbled path extended its way from the expansive pier network towards the monotonous town up ahead.

Law's eyes drifted across the white washed buildings and up to the blue tiled roofs that every building seemed to share, noting that they almost mimicked the typical Marine garrisons they had previously encountered. Though the presence of a number of small pirate ships littering the piers suggested that the Marine-esque town was rather void of Marines in general. It was not an entirely uncommon occurrence within the Grand Line, although it certainly made coming ashore much safer and general hassle-free (particularly as few small-fry bothered squaring up against the Heart Pirates).

The crew drifted around the submarine and piers, visibly excited by the free sea breeze and warm sun that had become almost a treat due to their extended periods below the surface. Law settled against the railing of the sub, straightening one leg with the other bent at over his knee. The crew functioned like a well-oiled machine due to the familiarity of the routine involved in coming ashore: offload waste, restock, maintain sub, drink and fight, prepare for submersion. Although this particular visit, much like the previous ones, involved an additional step: locate a chef.

Prior to their current chefless status, the cook had jumped ship in a flurry of insults such as 'damn ungrateful bastards' and 'dirty misfit pirates', to which he was promptly forsaken for good. However this meant that the duties of chef being shared amongst the crew members, subsequently resulting in often sloppy or burnt food being served to the crew. And an entire month without the barest palatable meal was beginning to set the men on edge.

Thus Law's mission was to satisfy the crew's growing need for a true cook, if only a temporary cook, began the moment he hopped from the ship's railing to the weather bitten pier. Bepo trailed behind, supporting his captain's lengthy nodachi against his shoulder whilst eagerly sniffing the sea air. On the winds the scents of takoyaki, frying meat, charcoaled fish, steamed clams and crisp stir-fry were carried, causing his mouth to water. Very few port towns smelt like anything other than fish and their discarded entrails, yet this one was positively delicious.

"-epo-ya. Bepo-ya, you're drooling." A smooth voice interrupted his revelry and the polar bear quickly swiped a paw across the corner of his mouth to clear the pooling saliva. "Control yourself."

"Ah sorry, Captain. All this food just smells so good!" Bepo sighed, taking another deep whiff of the air. It was both sweet, like the caramelizing of sizzling onions, and tangy, as if lime and mango had been poured over the open flames. Once again the tell tale drool began to form.

Law sighed, continuing to wear his mask of detached boredom, and continued down the pier. Shachi, Penguin and two other mechanics rocketed by, causing the wooden planks of the pier to shake loose their dust and crusted salt. He rolled his stormy eyes at their antics, though still watched as the knelt to the ground and kissed the dirt at the end of the dock. They cried out and hollered like maniacs, and with arms raised to the air they praised the mighty sunlight. It was a fairly similar routine following extended periods below the surface, generally due to the efforts of Marines. This particularly submersion lasted for nearly two months, as one particular Marine, Captain Therace, seemed hell-bent on their capture. He had latched onto their whereabouts like a rabid dog and followed them for miles until they finally shook him at the Calm Belt.

Nevertheless they had arrived at the aromatic island of Cortula safely and for the better part unharmed, and Law's mission to find a half-decent cook was well under way. He wandered through the narrow cobbled streets inspecting the vendors, café chefs and restaurants with little success. Most were either horribly unhygienic (which irked him to the nth degree) or completely unwilling to allow a pirate to even _step foot_ in their establishments. Though he was more ready to kidnap an unwilling chef than welcome an unhygienic one.

The tall, white washed buildings sported traditional shutters and hanging flower baskets, whilst clothing lines strewn with damp clothing hung suspended overhead. It was picturesque and strangely perfect: no litter or dowsed cigarette buds littered the streets. Only the noise from the town centre echoed through the narrow corridors formed by the buildings, which mainly consisted of bartering and children screaming.

Law sighed in dismay, dragging a tattooed hand across his face before dropping it to his side and thought, _This horribly dreary town will be the death of me. No Marines. No decent and willing cooks. Not even another rowdy crew._

For the quiet towns were certainly the worst. Rarely did they hold a pub that housed more the local drunkards and fishermen, and the crew –namely him– would grow restless with the serenity. A bit of harmless fighting was good for the crew to avoid mindless scuffles with civilians or each other. Yet as he meandered through the streets in search of a willing and half-decent chef, it seemed that his hopes would not be fulfilled.

Yet he had only to wander in the direction of the elevated yells of anticipation that sounded suspiciously like his crew, in order to find the sweetest solution to his predicament.

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The sizzle and crackle of bacon and onion on a hot griddle pan was like a beautiful concerto to Lou's ears, and the smell was just as intoxicating. A gentle sea breeze blew through and carried the scent along the extensive queue that had gathered for the lunch special of Lou's Street Style Fried Rice. Fresh bacon and prawns sautéed and seared, with a dash of peanut oil, oyster and Worcestershire sauce, combined with her personal herbs and spices mix. A dash of unrefined brown sugar would liven up the taste without adding excessive calories, which Lou considered important for maintaining a balanced diet.

Its simplicity and cost-effective nature made it an absolute hit with the locals, yet the taste of all her exceptional dishes caused the street food style café Bella Fortuna to boom during the two years she had spent at Cortula. From a poor travelling cook to a proficient business-owning chef, Lou thanked the high powers that the island hadn't experienced much in the way of cuisine aside from overcooked seafood and poorly seasoned Italian. Not that she doubted her cooking prowess, only it enhanced the hype around Bella Fortuna.

Nevertheless, the popularity bred an increasing workload that left her exhausted following the breakfast, lunch and dinner rushes, along with the pressure to develop new dishes for the masses. She continued to sauté the necessary ingredients before passing them off to her assistant Malia, who promptly mixed them with the large one metre pot filled with rice. Next as Malia served the extensive line of customers, noting the strange group of uniformed men that formed a pregnant bulge in the middle of the queue. They jostled each other loudly and squabbled to get in front of one another. Rolling her eyes at their antics she resumed her hectic routine with a fluid grace that was developed only through years of polished kitchen work.

The open air café was exposed the elements, and covered by stand alone umbrellas that shielded patrons from the heavy sun as they sat on cartons and milk crates to eat. Likewise, the cooking station, which consisted of a row of gas burners and a large pot that hovered over a gas fire were exposed, although it added to the aromatic presence of Bella Fortuna. A few rows of planters boxed in the seating area, where patrons sat happily devouring their meals.

Eventually the odd group wearing matching white boiler suits approached the counter and one man with a strange hat saying 'PENGUIN' leant against the counter.

"Hey, kiddo. We'll take seven servings of your fried rice, and double that for beers." The man announced to Lou's kitchen partner.

Malia glanced back nervously at Lou, who had paused from her work at the order. Had they not read the sign, or were they simply choosing to ignore it? The girl, only seventeen tapped the wooden sign the hung just below the metal counter.

"I'm really sorry sir, we only serve one alcoholic drink per customer," she mumbled.

The man glanced back at his companion with a crooked grin before leaning back closer to Malia. "Surely you can make an exception."

As she shook her head in response, her curtain of lilac hair rippled in time. "Chef's orders, sir. If we serve more than one per customer they get rowdy and start disrupting the café."

He bellowed out a laugh and said, "Do we look like light-weights to you?" A few of the others snickered in response, drawing Lou's attention until she turned from the stove to face them. "Pirates ain't weak, sweetheart. And we're the toughest on this little island. Hell, we're the toughest you'll find in these entire seas!"

Malia shot another distressed look at Lou with the mention of 'pirates', and the lightbulb metaphorically ignited in the woman's mind. That explained the strange uniforms that sported an equally strange jolly roger imprinted where the breast pocket should have been. She jerked her head towards the back of the makeshift kitchen area, signaling the young teen to make a swift retreat. The girl did so eagerly, but not without a hushed mewl of fear.

Pirates were not uncommon at Cortula, though usually there were mere small fry that made little impact on the inhabitants. Such petty thugs were simple enough to drive away, though the authority in his voice irked Lou, as if the civilians were so miniscule in comparison to them that they weren't worth physically intimidating. The mere mention of them being pirates was magic enough to get their way without posturing. At least in other towns it would be enough.

Lou curled her lips up in a strained smile, placing a dirty spice-covered hand on her plump hip. "Sorry, champ: one beer per customer. It's policy." She raised her hands in a faux apologetic gesture, narrowing her lips as they slipped down from their smile. His carefree expression dropped at 'champ. "It won't be changing for anyone. Not even pirates."

"Lemme speak to the chef then."

"That'd be me, thanks." She replied, folding her arms over her buxom chest. They were momentarily propped up even more, exposed by the low cut navy singlet she wore until she noticed the drop in his gaze, at which point Lou huffed and rested her palms on the counter. "And the chef will still not be changing her mind."

Another of the pirates, whose bulky green and red casquette sat lopsided on his head, stepped forward in an attempt to take charge of the situation. "Look missy, we just want our food and drink, we'll pay for it and sit quietly."

"Okay first of all: don't call me 'missy' I'm not a child. And second of all: no _means_ no." Lou hissed.

His cocky expression quickly dissolved into a scowl. "Yeah alright, tubby, don't get your panties in a bunch."

The disruptive sound of a metal ladle clanking against the paved floor cut through the sudden silence, accompanied by Malia's shocked gasp as she covered her mouth. What vague background chatter by patrons suddenly fell silent as all attention was brought down to the group of pirates and the woman quivering behind the café front. His eyes stooped to the balled fists Lou held so tightly at her side that her knuckles turned bone white, whilst the muscles in her jaw strained at the force with which she clenched her jaw.

"Aw, Shachi, you never call a woman fat!" The 'PENGUIN' hatted man whispered urgently, eyeing the woman's lowered head. Lou's dark chocolaty hair formed a thick curtain of tresses that covered her livid expression. "You're really in for a mouthful."

Lou's head shot up forcefully, spraying her hair backwards as her shadowed eyes bore into Shachi's. Her fist flew up in front of here in an unspoken challenge, revealing a row of scabbed and bloodied knuckles, and black bruises that littered her hand.

"I'LL BE GIVING YOU MORE THAN A MOUTHFUL BUDDY!" The unmistakable fighting spirit in her eyes ignited, burning brightly through her verbal challenge of the crude pirate.

"B-Bring it on, lady!" He stuttered back, planting a firm boot on the ground in defiance.

"Shachi no you can't fight a woman!" His companion shrieked.

"Let's take this outside," she commanded, pointing to the small cobbled clearing near the café. Beside it was a run down boathouse with grass sprouting at its corners.

Shachi smirked and replied, "We're already are outside."

"OUTSIDE OF THE CAFÉ YOU IDIOT."

He pouted and waved his hand at her. "Fine, I'll humour you! But just let me know when you've had enough."

From behind, Malia popped her head over her employer's shoulder, a small frown on her narrow face. Her brow was knitted closely, emphasising her thin eyebrows. She placed a slender hand on Lou's arm and attempted to pull her back.

"Miss Lou, please don't get so fired up. Mayor Theodor warned you not to-"

The brunette shirked the teenager off dismissively, refusing to breaking eye contact with the detested 'Shachi'. "Yeah well he ain't the one being insulted."

"You don't even know how to fight!"

"Yeah well I can just pound him into the ground!"

"Hah I'd like to see you try," he gloated, placing his finger and thumb below his chin as he peered at Lou's frustrated expression. Shachi's previous name calling attempt of 'tubby' wasn't entirely wrong, as she was certainly… plumper than she cared to be; yet the weight was almost flattering for her broad hips and heart-shaped face.

Shachi traipsed over to the small clearing, watched intently by the patrons and quickly followed by his fellow crew mates. They watched on eagerly to see how he would act in a faux fight against the snappy chef, and stood a small ways away from the assumed fighting circle. A few patrons scampered out to watch the fight also, though they hung back further than the pirates. Malia too joined the circle, gripping her wrist with her right hand and chewing on her bottom lip.

 _Don't go too over board again, Lou_ , she thought to herself, _Mayor Theodor is going to be beyond mad this time._

"Oi, Lou, don't let these bloody pirates push you around!" A civilian called out, glaring at the looming pirates.

Another pitched in, "Yeah just tap us in if its getting tough."

The woman shot them a broad grin that quickly morphed into a furrowed brow as she turned her attentions to the insulting pirate. "Don't worry, this guy ain't shit."

"OI I'M RIGHT HERE." Shachi barked as he stamped his feet on the ground. He waved his arms hysterically, and Lou simply watched as his face turned bright red with frustration. The comical nature of the action was not lost on the pirate group gathered in the circle, and they bickered with Shachi, commenting on his childish behaviour.

Lou bent her legs slightly in a ready position, placing her fists up in front of her; and in response Shachi snapped to a similar position. "Ladies first."

She shrugged and pounced forward towards him. The cocky grin on his face ultimately betrayed his non-serious approach to the fight which, to Lou's benefit, made him slow. Her fist sailed past his head as Shachi leaned left at the last moment, feeling the pounding of air following Lou's frightening punch that left a cloud of white air in its wake. It quickly dissipated and Lou stumbled on her feet from over extending herself. The pirate gawped at the fist that had so nearly pummeled his face, unable to comprehend the sheer force behind it. Her skill was almost non-existent, luckily for him.

 _All she needs to do is land one hit and I'm gone_ , the ginger haired man thought to himself as he jumped back from her, _thankfully she's almost useless except for that strength._

Lou steadied herself and faced Shachi, a firm look on her face that manifested itself in a pout. His expression seemed firmer than before, too. The rise and fall of his chest was faster now in reaction to the close blow. Those forming the circle had gone quiet after witnessing the display of power, unsure of her true strength. Her fist had condensed the air to the point of being visible, much like how a jet might break the speed of sound, and this set Shachi on edge.

"O-Oi, Shachi! Don't let her get the better of you!" One of his crew mates cried with his hands cupped around the edges of his mouth to project the words. The rest of the crew echoed similar encouragements, whilst the civilians shouted their own forms of support for Lou.

Shachi nodded resolutely in response and followed it up with a round-house kick at the woman, which she narrowly avoided by skittering back and falling to the floor. He sighed at her clumsiness and watched as she scrambled to her feet. A delicate shade of red engulfed her face and neck at the embarrassing attempt at dodging. With a swift jab and turn of her body that evolved into a near elbow to his face, Lou missed her target once again, but it instead traveled and connected with the decrepit building, creating a small crater around the impact. There was a wince from the crowd at the sickening crack of stone against bone. Shachi swiveled and landed a quick punch to her shoulder to which she cried out and clutched it. He quickly retracted his fist.

His wide brown eyes stared at her teared up blue ones that were partially hidden by her choppy fringe. "You're… You're actually a wimp!" He hollered. "Why are you starting fights if you're such a cry baby!"

Crystal tears dribbled down her cheeks at the quivering of her lip. "I'm not a cry baby! That just really hurt!"

"Ah, Shachi, you dick. You hurt a girl, ya big blouse," the 'PENGUIN' character tutted, shaking his head as the man turned to fume at him. "Captain'll be very disappointed at your lack of chivalry."

"Don't bring him into this, Penguin!"

"I'm just sayin' is all."

Shachi flicked his head back to the woman and her wobbly bottom lip with a roll of his eyes. She really was a bit of a hot head, but had little more than her obscene strength to back it up. Lou rubbed her aching shoulder, unable to prevent more tears from dribbling down her face.

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Law's smoky eyes had been locked on the frankly embarrassing fight throughout its entire duration. From a shadowed alley, he and Bepo had witnessed the 'tubby' insult and the pointless fight that ensued. Both the yelling of the crew, as well as the irresistible scent of the food had drawn them to that point. Bepo's attention however was firmly rooted in the food, eliciting another bout of drooling of his part. He gravitated towards the stand, deposited a few coins and helped himself to an unattended bowl of fried rice. The hearts in his eyes after the first bite unmistakably betrayed the amazing taste of each bite. He was completely unconcerned by the fight.

However the biggest surprise was the woman's apparent fearsome strength, albeit misguided through her overwhelming lack of skill. That could be trained into one, and the wimpish attitude would eventually evolve into something more gritty. In combination of that with her sublime cooking, Law supposed he had found a perfect match for his crew, whether she was willing to come along or not.


	2. The One With the Proposition

Thanks to all who are sticking by this story, and a massive shout out to **Volleys-chan** who wrote a beautiful review that made me so happy I can't even begin to explain how great you made me feel! And she'll never change cos I reckon plump is just as sexy as thin. You'll find a nice surprise in there based on your review, so thank you for that :D

As usual, please enjoy and feel free to submit one-shot suggestions (smut, fluff, crack, etc.) if you've got any cool ideas.

Thanks xx

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Due to his own foolishness, Shachi was eventually socked in the face, resulting in an eruption of blood from his cheek where Lou had only scraped her knuckles across and a howl of laughter from the pirates at him being injured by such a sloppy punch. At that point Lou was covered in sweat and unwilling to fight much more, whilst Shachi clutched his bleeding cheek. The hot sun was beating down on them, and the gentle sea breeze that had blown through the docks had ceased, and many patrons had moved on after finishing their meals.

Law had taken a seat with Bepo in Bella Fortuna, and was promptly served by Malia who had left the fight not long after it had begun. She was accustomed to the chef's pointless hot headedness, often started from her sensitivity to her weight, so it was better to move on and keep business going. For the patrons, however, a good fight was always appreciate by way of entertainment.

The café assistant dropped off a bowl of fried rice at Law's makeshift table and said, "I'm sorry sir we're out of clean forks, but we do have chop sticks if that's okay?"

The pirate captain waved her off. "That's fine."

She nodded and fetched them for Law, slightly rattled as she noticed the similarity between the insignia on his hoodie and those on the boiler suits of the pirates. Ultimately Malia concluded that he too must be a pirate, and likely the captain. Though she was unsure about the strange humanoid polar bear sitting to his right. His face was buried in the bowl of fried rice, and if ever she stared to long his beady black eyes would make contact with her own. Such an expressionless look from such a large creature set her on edge, almost as much as the nodachi that rested against him. She wondered if he was willing to use it on civilians, as even Lou's strength was useless in the face of such a fearsome weapon.

Shakily, the girl placed the chopsticks on the table and made to turn back to the stand where she could bury herself in her work. Lou was no longer fighting, but instead mimicking Shachi by holding the front of his boiler suit in an aggressive manner whilst he gripped her singlet strap threateningly.

A small smirk adorned Law's face as he watched the childish commotion. His attention switched to the serving girl who had moved only a few steps from them. "Come back here." He commanded.

Malia froze immediately, a shiver rocketing up her spine at the imposing tone of his voice. Despite his handsome appearance and cool expression, there was a level of depth to his voice that simply set her on edge.

"Y-Yes sir?" She stuttered, unable to meet his eyes.

"Is that woman your employer?" Malia replied with a tentative nod. "And she's the one who made this?" Another nod. The food was indeed delicious, light but so flavoursome without being saturated in oil or salt. The bacon was soft in the middle yet crispy and caramelised at the edges, likewise with the prawn. The rice was a soft buttery yellow from the oil and a mixture of spices so precise that no one taste was distinguishable from the exquisite combination. He closed his eyes briefly before refocusing his attention on Malia, resting his chin on his open palm.

"Tell me about your boss…?"

"Lou? What do… What do you want to know about her?"

The corner of his smirking mouth twitched in irritation at the density of the girl, thinking, _How slow is this girl?_ He straightened his back and waited for her continue talking. Her thin eyebrows were angled upwards anxiously, and she tugged on a few locks of her hair. A small frown sat upon her brow as she chewed her lip, trying to think of something to reply with.

"Um, well she's been my boss for two years, ever since she arrived here and started Bella Fortuna… She really loves cooking b-but gets into too many fights, I think. Lou isn't good at fighting at all, but she's crazy strong! I've seen her carry one-hundred kilo sacs of flour on her shoulder before like it was nothing." Malia's voice carried more confidence at that point, though her eyes refused to meet Law's. "She's twenty, but I reckon sometimes she acts like she's fifty by the way she treats me."

 _Interesting_ , he pondered, _she seems a bit more immature than the responsible adult this girl is describing… Although it would be a nice change to have someone actually mature aboard the sub._

Malia wrung her hands nervously and questioned, "You're not going to hurt my boss… Are you? She's only upset because she got ca-called fat, I swear!"

Law quirked an eyebrow at her sudden outburst that contradicted her previous nervous behaviour before looking back at the fight. Both Shachi and this… Lou landed simultaneous punches to the other's cheek, sending the woman to the ground with a heavy thud and Shachi a few metres away. Clearly the woman would've come out better in the fight had it not been for her weak tolerance for pain, evident by the way she rolled on the floor with a hand to her throbbing cheek. Shachi on the other hand was out cold for a few moments until Penguin splashed some cool water on his face.

"Quite the contrary actually," he muttered more to himself than to the server. "I'll be having her join my crew."

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Lou rolled onto her chest, flattening her large breasts on the ground before struggling to her feet. Her eyes met the similarly exhausted figure of Shachi being helped up by Penguin, and his mouth formed a thin grimacing line. Brushing off the dust left on jeans, she coolly approached him, hands relaxed by her sides. The man and his companion tensed at her approach until she planted her feet in front of him and jerked out her hand.

"Tie?"

Unbridled shock was clear on Shachi's face as he gawked at the open palm presented to him, and it was mirrored by Penguin equally stunned expression. Her slightly chubby cheeks were relaxed in a stern expression, blue eyes focused intently on his. Tentatively, he met her open palm with his own and winced at her forceful, if not threatening, handshake.

"Glad we could come to an understanding." Lou jutted her chin out as she spoke, looking up at the ginger man. The corners of his mouth were turned down slightly in a frown and he quickly jerked his head to the side with a mutter under his breath. A faint blush decorated his cheeks at the shorter woman's 'tough girl' persona which contradicted with her previous behaviour. Eyes the colour of early morning sea foam stared up at him with a level of defiance that certainly did not befit her disheveled dark hair and strong curves. What little muscle hung off her hefty arms was clearly honed but not refined, and the small potbelly that was hidden just below her navy tank top only served to discredit her attempt at staunching Shachi.

Quickly the iron grip was released and Lou straightened her ruffled fringe, blowing a puff of air from her red cheeks. "You gonna apologise?"

His similarly ginger eyebrows shot up and he snorted in reply. "Hey, hey, hey, you losing in a fight don't mean I've gotta apologise!"

"Actually Shachi, she did knock you out for a bit-" Penguin interjected with a raised hand.

"SHUT UP, PENGUIN!" He bellowed back, stomping his foot.

"And you also called me 'tubby'," Lou added. "Which I'm not… I'm simply a little bigger than most girls."

"A little?"

"Shachi-ya, I suggest you apologise to Miss Lou." A smooth voice interrupted their disagreement, slicing through the stagnant cyclic argument. Lou turned her head at the mention of her name, immediately coming face-to-face with a smiling jolly rodger identical to the one imprinted on the pirate crews' boiler suits. Its soulless eyes stared her down before she raised her gaze to the man who had spoken so coolly that it almost reverberated down her spine. His stormy eyes were trained on Shachi, a delicate smirk painted on his tan face. Though the lack of emotion behind it was almost disturbing, had it not been for the apparent handsomeness of his features: straight nose, defined jaw and dark windswept hair below a fluffy North Blue-styled hat. A familiar warmth spread across her cheeks and Lou found herself uncomfortably aware of his eye-catching appearance. Immediately she dropped her attention as his eyes darted to the corner to look at her.

His arrival beside them had happened so swiftly it had startled Lou, causing her to step out of his overwhelming aura. Suffocation… that was what it could be most likened to. The feeling of being unable to prevent around such an imposing presence, though whether it was derived from intimidation or attraction Lou couldn't tell. Yet judging by the excessively tall nodachi rested upon his relatively slim shoulder and comfortably slouched posture, he had little to fear from any of them. Once again Lou settled her hair and smoothed out her clothing.

"But captain-"

"Apologise." He repeated in the similarly calm tone, though its effect was wildly different. Shachi stilled and swallowed thickly before setting his sights on Lou.

"S-Sorry," he scratched under his baggy hat with a childish pout. " Shouldn't 'ave called you 'tubby'."

"See that wasn't so hard!"

"Oi don't push it lady!"

Quickly Lou raised her bruised hands in mock defensive and diverted her eyes, unconsciously looking back to the male who had previously interrupted them and elicited an apology from Shachi. Only this time her staring did not carry on largely unnoticed. There was a brief moment in which she had yet to register that she was staring at his face before he tilted his head in a cocky gesture. The blush was embarrassingly obvious against her gently tanned skin.

"Don't take anything he said to heart, Chef-lady! Shachi's just a big dick." Penguin's cheerful, albeit strained, pierced through the moment of tense staring between his captain and the cry baby chef.

"A-Ah that's okay, no problem." The mumbled reply drifted off and Lou glanced at the stand, noting the small pillar of smoke diffused by the soft wind appearing from the fried rice pot. A small knot of panic immediately seized her stomach. "Oh Malia, did you leave the fire going?"

"Hmm?" She turned her head from the scene before her to the increasing amount of smoke and dashing towards it. "Oh! Oh no, oh no, oh no! Lou I'm sorry!"

Grumbling, Lou dragged a hand down her face whilst simultaneously wiping the thing layer of sweat from her face. Malia was a sweet and dedicated girl who genuinely enjoyed cooking, though her skills certainly left much to be desired. Particularly by way of organisation, but she was a good girl, and Lou figured with her solo voyage away from the island looming she would be the one to inherit Bella Fortuna. It had been her pride and joy for two lovely years, a project that had cost her many sleepless nights and a bucket worth of tears. Ultimately it was the one decent thing to come from her short life of tireless failures, the least of which still caused pangs of regret.

Again the tanned man drew Lou's mind from its senseless wandering. "Your assistant has informed me that you are the chef at this café," he drawled. "Is that not correct?"

"Oh yeah, sorry I am the chef." A tentative smile crept upon her face as she gained a better look at his face. "Lou Beira's the name. You lookin' for a feed?"

Once again that irresistible smirk stole its way onto his face, manifesting in the slightest curl of his lips while his eyes remained unchanged. Their predatory stare reminded Lou of a cat watching a small mouse cross an alley, unaware of the ominous presence watching it intently. Though the slight tilt of his head was almost disarming, and Lou found herself tilting her own head in response.

"My first mate and I have already helped ourselves to some of your food," Lou crumpled her nose at this. "Though I suggest we head back to your establishment for a little… chat." He placed his broad, tattooed hand upon her lowing back and firmly guided her back to the café. Despite the apparent tenderness of the action, there was a sense of unwavering strength that left no room for negotiation, indicating that this pirate was certainly stronger willed than Shachi. Lou gulped and meekly allowed herself to be led back to the café, fearing reparation from the man for brawling with his crew mate.

They seated themselves towards the back of the café, though not before ordering a round of beer. Lou waved off Malia's concerns and request to call the mayor, fearing it would escalate into an unavoidable situation if done so. Much of the crew sat not far from Law and Lou, downing their beers as if it were mere water, and devouring what little fried rice hadn't suffered from Malia's lack of attention. Both the adults however were without food or drink, so Lou was left only to fiddle with the hem of her shirt under the piercing stare of the man.

His eyes roamed over her plump body, _She might be at a disadvantage or possible liability to the crew if not trained properly, and by the looks of it she isnt't. Nevertheless a cook is a cook._

"So, Miss Lou, might I make a suggestion that would be in the best interest of us both?"

The woman in question chewed her lip and folded her hands tightly in her lap. "A suggestion? You're not going to hurt me?" He quirked a dark eyebrow, vague amusement clear on his face. "For beating up your crew mate, I mean."

A tense flash of distaste replaced the amusement before he said, "Shachi is a crew _member_ , actually, and I his captain. But to answer your question: no, I'm not mad. The short temper of women is a known thing, and Shachi was immature to cause a commotion over such an insignificant thing." He clicked his tongue with a 'tch'. "Rather I am interested in both your cooking abilities and strength, which is where my proposition comes into play. My crew is in need of a chef, and it seems as though you fit the bill perfectly, Miss Lou."

She blinked, eyes wide and lips slightly pursed. "You want _me_ to join your crew? Hell I don't even know who you are, I mean I'm flattered but… this is very sudden." With a flat hand that she waved in front of her face, Lou dismissed the idea fairly quickly. "Besides I have my own plans to travel from Cortula further into the Grand Line."

"Very well, it's Captain Trafalgar Law and as easy as I'd prefer this exchange to be it is less of a request than it is a ultimatum." A sadistic smirked drawled its way across his face with a deep shadow hovering around his naturally half-lidded eyes. "You can either come willingly and we will take you as far as we can until we find a more permanent chef, or I can simply destroy this quaint little café of yours. And possibly half this town is you cause a fuss."

With fingers laced together Law rested his chin upon them, revering the twisted expression of sudden distaste that Lou had. The muscles in her arms and neck tensed visibly, and the faint sound of a frustrated grumble reverberated from her lower throat. The abrupt change in demeanour had startled Lou, though the realisation of the weight of his words drew her mind back to his imposing presence. There were a certain power behind it that the woman had yet to witness, though she could sense the difference between him and other small fry who made such petty claims. Although she was not entirely attached to Cortula, she would hate to see such a peaceful town devastated.

Lou sighed and muttered, "A little more convincing was all I needed to agree, you didn't have to threaten my café y'know."

"Where would the fun in that be?" He replied. "Shall I assume you've agreed?"

She scrunched up her nose and flicked her vivid eyes to the port in front of them. Gentle and cyclic waves lapped against the raised stone parapet of the wharf, with the sound of the breaking water lulling her into a semi-trance. The ocean was a mysterious thing of both beauty and destruction, an open plain of blue glass than opened up one's world to endless possibilities. It had been two years since she had set foot on a boat in the hopes that Cortula might be a permanent home, yet the ache of knowing what existed beyond the tipping horizon was irresistible. Likewise unfinished business elsewhere from Cortula beckoned her like the undeniable call to migrant birds. Though they always returned, and the life of a pirate typically meant you were to leave all behind but what little you could take aboard.

"I'll come," she said softly, eyes not leaving the scene before her as sea birds dipped alongside the shifty ocean breeze. "But not because you threatened me _which_ _I will be choosing to ignore_ … Captain."


	3. The One With the Espresso

Fun Fact: the cooling system I imagined the submarine would have was inspired by the cooling system of the Sydney Opera House, in which they pump sea water throughout the building to use its naturally cool temperature to cool the air. It's called a Seawater Cooling Condenser System, thought it was a pretty neat and logical idea (but I doubt you guys really care about air-conditioning all that much!)

As usual, please enjoy and feel free to submit one-shot suggestions (smut, fluff, crack, etc.) if you've got any cool ideas.

Thanks xx

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The first thing Lou noticed upon setting foot inside the sub, was that it was surprisingly cool. Contrary to her expectations of steaming pipes and intense humidity, there was an odd freshness about the air that seemed even a few degrees cooler than outside. With her bags and pots slung over her back, she gingerly touched on of the hundreds of pipes that formed the walls of the corridor, only to be pleasantly surprised that it did not scald her. Shachi shuffled past her bulbous bag, narrowly avoiding a valve that attempted to jut his side through the boiler suit.

He sheepishly scratched his cheek, the lightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. "Pretty awesome, ain't it?" The startled look on Lou's face as she whirled to face him caused him to jerk back and collide with the dreaded valve. He cringed before continuing. "Me and Penguin designed the cooling system in this sub, and it's a world first! Sea water gets pumped from the bottom of the sub and into the hull, where it's diverted into the outer pipes that surrounded all the pipes in the submarine. It keeps them cool and prevents overheating at the same time."

"Ah, right. I don't know anything about engineering, sorry." She placed a hand over one of the pipes and felt the very faint vibrations caused by the rapid flow of water over the inner pipes. "That sounds really impressive though, and practical."

"Heh heh, well as head mechanic you've gotta be original with-"

Penguin's head appeared around the corner as if on cue, though slightly obscured by the light at the sub doorway behind him. "Oi we're both head mechanic, and don't you go forgettin' that to impress the newbie!"

"Who said I was trying to impress anybody?" The ginger snapped, suddenly attempted a far harsher attitude and causing Lou to flinch the tone of his voice.

The other head mechanic scrunched up his nose and mimicked his childish tone, " _Who said I was trying to impress anybody?_ I did dumbass, now let's get down to the engine room and change the oil before Captain gets aboard."

Shachi uttered a short grumble before saying his goodbyes to Lou, who was mesmerised by the continuous jumble of pipes that ran below the criss-crossing grate that they stood upon. Such a meticulous piece of extraordinary machinery was fascinating and, though she loathed admitting it, above the science of a good meal. Though a submarine could never truly compare to a belly full of hot delicious food! Food was the staple of life, and as such good food was ideal for health and happiness.

She landed her first in her open palm as she thought, _Of course that would give me the most important job as the chef!_ Such contemplations were interrupted by the tapping of thick boot heels against metal, causing Lou to twist around to the source of the sound. The pans strapped to her bulging bag clattered and rattled against the pipe walls as she did so, and Lou instinctively reached around to still them whilst watching her new Captain approach. A lazy, somewhat confident, smirk seemed to be his default expression, though the look wasn't always reflected in his dark rimmed eyes. Occasionally Lou thought she caught a glimpse of genuine amusement at the psychological manipulation of others, yet it is was always gone before she could properly evaluate the look.

Nevertheless it was worn perfectly and suited the slight slouch in Law's posture, adding to the lazy façade he had adopted. "You'll be our chef effectively immediately and, as dinner will be served at five-thirty on the dot, I'm afraid you won't be able to settle in your new cabin until after dinner."

Lou swallowed thickly in an attempt to quell the knot that had formed in her throat. The euphoria of saying goodbye to Cortula and leaving Bella Fortuna in Malia's capable hands in search of what lay beyond the horizon had somewhat blinded her to the reality of chef work. Unlike Bella Fortuna, the sub was limited in terms of supplies and thus her creativity was too. Similarly she had no assistant to move the preparation along, although Lou was confident in her ability to complete her task within the hour. No pause or time to settle was less disheartening in the face of a proper fully serviced kitchen instead of her makeshift café kitchen. At least she hoped so.

Law led her through the complex series of pipeline mazes that eventually brought them to a pair of swinging double doors with a porthole in each. Inside she could see a monotone if not sterile mess hall, still empty as dinner was but an hour away. The chef let out a forlorn sigh and ran her fingers through her messy hair. It would be a race against time, but the kitchen inside the mess hall was enough to compensate for the stress. In spite of the messy film of grime and grease that covered the beautiful stainless steel, it was a welcome upgrade from her previous kitchen of portable gas burners and fires. A large bolted freezer door was situated to the far right of the kitchen, whilst three stoves and their respective ovens lined the furthest wall. Pots, pans and utensils hung from the grill above the stainless steel benches, with a heavy set knife block simply beckoning her at the main counter.

"Oh my… This is every chefs dream." She mumbled, tracing the edge of the kitchen counters with gentle fingers, careful not to leave even a fingerprint behind. "Your last chef must've had a ball with this."

"Well if he did it certainly was not reflected in his cooking." Law griped. "The man was stubborn and ill-suited to the position, something that as captain I have little patience for. "

A pang of nervousness struck Lou in her throat, causing her voice to seize up at the thought of being disposed of if she wasn't cut out for life as a pirate; or at least her temporary life as a pirate until she had been brought closer to the Saboady Archipelago near which her home island was situated. Returning home had been Lou's ultimate goal, but the fear of returning to an unrecognisable island and those who lived in it frightened her so greatly that it had caused her very dreams to be diminished in the face of it. Though it was hardly a dream by any stretch of the imagination, it was more an objective than anything else.

A crooked smile appeared on Lou's face and she turned to face her new captain. "Don't worry, I'll live up to you expectations," she said and patted her roundish stomach. "You know what they say: 'Never trust a skinny chef'!"

Law quirked an eyebrow. "Well let's hope that's true, because the crew will be ravenous tonight, and probably for something a bit more substantial than fried rice."

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The captain of the infamous Heart Pirates was more correct than Lou had initially assumed regarding the crew's supposed ravenous appetite. In some ways, they were exactly as she had expected: loud, crude and hungry. Though the sheer force with which they had all simultaneously attempted to push through the mess hall doors was unprecedented and frankly hilarious. The front-runners tumbled through and landed face down on the stark linoleum floor, only to be trampled by Shachi and Penguin who bolted through the rows of tables towards the kitchen.

The kitchen and the mess hall were separated by a thick metal wall with a rectangular hole cut from it through which the food could be served by those placed on kitchen duty, whom had yet to be assigned apparently. Lou eyed the quickly approaching pirates from her spot at the kitchen doorway and seized their collars as they sprinted past. They choked briefly before struggling in her inhumanly strong grip.

"Oi let us go!" Penguin squealed, flailing in her grip.

"You two seem awfully keen to be on kitchen duty tonight," Lou grinned and dropped them on their feet. The other crewmembers were beginning to filter through the doorway and inched past the trampled pirates on the floor. "Mind helping a girl out?"

"You're hardly a gi-"

"S-Sure, Lou!" Shachi interjected and cut off Penguin's attempt at starting an argument like they had on Cortula. "Anything for you."

Penguin stared utterly dumbfounded at the lopsided smile Shachi wore that coincided with the dusting of a blush on his cheeks, thinking, _Oh you poor bastard, look at what she's done to you._

The woman in question replied with a slightest tilt of her head, which caused a lock of dark hair to fall from its place behind her ear. "Thanks guys, you better hop to it though!" She passed them a pair of aprons, which Penguin begrudgingly received. "Don't forget to wear aprons and gloves when you serve."

"Hey look, chubster, I'm not going to be ordered around by you."

"Penguin-ya, would you rather be placed on cleaning duty for the rest of the month?" Once again Law appeared, rather without warning, and his husky voice immediately neutralized the possibly volatile situation. Penguin gaped in response to the threat but quickly shook his head; all the while the ever-present smirk never left Law's lips. "Good, so follow Miss Lou's instructions. And Miss Lou, don't be goaded into a fight with every comment."

Her silent fuming was not left unnoticed by him, so he directed the red-faced chef to the kitchen, and ushered the Penguin and Shachi in behind him. Inside a large pot of simmering curry sat upon the low flames of the stove, steam rising and carrying with it the irresistible scent of spices so perfectly combined that even Law himself was curious as to its taste. Lou hoisted it off the stove and placed it on the counter in front of the serving station, and ordered Shachi and Penguin to fetch the rice that had been left to steam in the ovens. Within moments the serving station was filled to the brim with hot steamed rice and fresh curry with most of the crew eagerly lined up.

Much of the crew gobbled up the food within moments, before returning for seconds which were consumed at a slowly pace so as to enjoy the flavours of the meal. After they had been served, Shachi and Penguin piled their plates high with rice and curry before settling at one of the less crowded tables with Bepo. Penguin, unlike his smitten friend who was gorging himself on mouthfuls of curry (of which half landed back on his plate), continued to eye the new chef warily. She was talking quietly with the captain, head tilted slightly to one side and hand holding her own arm just above the elbow. From the angle at which he watched them he couldn't make out the words, though from his captain's relaxed and slightly slouched posture it didn't seem serious. Lou reached up a brushed a few strands of stray hair behind her ear, revealing the gentle curve of her neck-

Penguin jerked his head forward and away from the pair who were casually talking and returned his attention to the food before him. His heart thudded at the embarrassment of noticing such details of the dastardly harlot. Though the tantalizing scent of the curry drew his thoughts from the sight, and he deeply inhaled the rising steam.

"You gonna eat that, Penguin?" Shachi asked, motioning to his friend's high pile of untouched food with his fork. A piece of lamb was still jabbed on the prongs, and its movement sent droplets of reddish sauce flying across the table, causing Penguin to scowl in response.

"I haven't even had a chance to start yet!"

"Because you were distracted by captain?" Bepo inquired as he crossed his arms in deep thought. "It's okay, that happens to me sometimes too."

"Shut up, Bepo!" Penguin hissed.

"Sorry," the bipedal bear mumbled as he confidence once again plummeted. His plate was empty, though he was significantly less interested in human food than he was in his regular diet of fish.

Penguin's scowl disappeared eventually, and he prodded the curry with his own fork. The lamb was soft and fell apart at the touch, beads of oil glistening as it did. Mounds of buttery white potato covered in tiny streams of sauce sat perfectly amongst the carrots, beans, onion and peas that littered the mix. Needless to say after the first mouthful it only took a few moments for the rest of the food to disappear. He huffed and patted his ballooned stomach before swiping a finger across the sauce-covered plate and licking it.

By then a pile of used plates had accumulated at the serving counter for Lou to wash, and she eyed it with disdain. Bella Fortuna had always used disposable plates and cups, only investing in metal cutlery that Malia had always washed. Never would the chef be subjected to 'clean up duty', as Bepo put it, if there were any crewmembers without specific jobs. See, as those enjoying her meal came to say 'thank you' or to deliver their plates, Lou found herself inquiring about names and positions. Almost half the crew worked solely on keeping the submarine running, including Shachi and Penguin as the head mechanics, Bepo as navigator, six lower mechanics and general maintenance men, two air conditioning technicians, a tool and part maker and finally a boiler maker. The rest of the crew consisted of a male nurse, a specialist fisherman, two plumbers and a pair of chemists. The specialist fisherman, Shu, was particularly interesting. He remained behind for a few minutes to discuss the submarine with Lou.

Apparently menial jobs such as cleaning and cooking, prior to her arrival of course, were divided amongst the crew to be performed on a routine basis so no crewmember was left without work to do for the majority of time not spent in sleep. Only when the submarine was docked and sufficiently stocked and repaired could the crew have some unperturbed down time, which seemed rather high strung to her. Likewise Shu also informed her that all members were capable fighters, something she was not.

That made Lou shift nervously at the thought of danger and busied herself by carrying the mile high plate pile to the deep sink on the other side of the kitchen. She filled the sink with boiling water and soap before leaving the dishes in the sink to soak.

Her mind was a wanderer, always drifting off to think of thinks other than the present, whether it be in daydream or worry. This time it happened to be worry over her severe lack of fighting skills. Sure Lou's inhuman strength was helpful to some degree, though the fights she often got involved in were with small fry pirates with poor reflexes and a weak penchant for pain. And to a similar degree they were often started by the woman's hotheaded response to insults. However, as she figured, the chances of encountering other pirates or even Marines were far greater than on her old sleepy island. If it weren't for her strength and her opponent holding back, Lou was sure Shachi would have beaten her within moments.

Lou had since moved on to preparing for tomorrow's meals by slicing up tomatoes, cucumber, potatoes, eggplant and a variety of other vegetables. Law had insisted on using seafood where possible, as Shu was specialised in catching fish whilst underwater resulting in a near never-ending supply of seafood. Other meats such as lamb and chicken were more expensive and low in stock, so they would remain a weekly thing. So the chef descaled a number of recently caught fish and left them in a soupy mixture of Greek marinade. Following that Lou prepped the batter for the naan bread, only pausing to note the time as her captain entered the kitchen.

"Getting quite late is it not, Miss Lou?" He drawled in silky words.

She wiped a splatter of flour off her cheekbone, only to spread the flour left on her hands across her cheek with a small smile. "This is a chef's life, captain. Last one awake at night and first one up in the morning. We're like food athletes."

"What's this?" He asked whilst gesturing to the large mound of flattened dough on the counter.

"Naan dough." Lou replied as she turned to face him fully. Much of her dark shirt and pants contrasted starkly against the white powder that had likely exploded on her when she opened it. It was really opened or used due to Law's strong hate for bread, and he could feel the tightening dread at the concept of bread being present at breakfast. "It's far better than bread, no added sugars or preservatives, uses Durum wheat which is better for your digestive system and keeps the weight off your thighs!"

The woman laughed briefly and motioned to her thick thighs. "Clearly it's not doing much for me though."

Law felt a small spasm at the corner of his cheeks where his mouth attempted to curl into a truer smile than his constant smirk, yet he quelled it quickly. "It's good that you're interested in the nutritional value of your food. Health is an important aspect of a successful crew, and I'd very much hate for the crew to be out of action due to something like their diet."

"Wow, you're really piling on the pressure today." Lou muttered.

"I value my crew's health a great deal, Miss Lou, which you'd take care to remember," he said in response, eyes trailing across the array of dishes that had been left to soak in the sink. "Which is what I had actually came here to discuss. Tomorrow I shall require your full medical history in writing and for you to start some self-defense lessons with one of the crewmembers. From what I saw on the previous island your combat skills leave much to be desired and that fight with Shachi was frankly embarrassing. I may well have him join you for making the Heart Pirates look so weak."

"He wasn't putting his all in, not his fault, Captain."

The tanned pirate crossed his arms and leant over the smaller chef with a darker look in his eyes. "That's not the point. The point is he looked like a fool which impresses upon others that the Heart Pirates themselves are fools. And that puts the rest of my crew in danger when every back alley pirate and their whore wants to challenge us."

She huffed and returned to her kneading. "Righto, Captain. Makes sense, I was just sayin' is all…"

Law rolled his eyes at her somewhat childish attitude, but quickly remembered the other side of his intentional visit to the kitchens: dinner. Normally he would skip meals until the fancy struck him, and this was no exception. No meal, regardless of how 'heavenly' it was according to his crew, would ever cause him to eat when the urge did not occur. Yet, at near midnight, he had felt the foreboding grumblings of his stomach in his quarters as he attempted to read and so ventured into the kitchens. Naturally he had not anticipated the woman's already great devotion to preparing for his crew, though it was a pleasant surprise to see she was not slacking off like the previous chef.

The woman in question quickly noticed his snooping and asked, "Are you looking for something?"

"Dinner."

"This late at night?" Lou yelped with a wide eyed expression. "Oh, Captain, as a doctor you should not late night snacking isn't good for you weight."

He peered at Lou carefully from the counter opposite her. "Are you implying that I'm overweight?"

A hot flush appeared across her face and the woman vehemently shook her head. The artificial light emphasised the ghostly hue of the flour against her skin, which in turn washed out her complexion. Exhaustion was clear in the slight slump of her shoulders, though her mental alertness indicated otherwise. She waved her hands in front of her and opened her jaw in an attempt to speak, however the incredulous look of faux hurt on his face silenced any arguments.

The pair fell into a strange silence, in which Lou served up some curry for her captain and returned to her kneading. Law leant against the counter, plate in hand and fork methodically working through the meal. He had to admit the food was high quality and worthy of great praise, not that he would bother with it. As he ate, the pirate captain watched as his new chef scrounged through the kitchen in search of a rolling pin, only to stumble upon something far better.

A small gasp signaled her excitement as she hoisted a rather banged up coffee machine from beneath one of the many counters and placed it on the bench. Law resisted the urge to wince at the damage its weight may have caused to the metal counter tops, but he too was intrigued by her enthusiasm over the contraption.

"Why did you not tell me earlier you had this?" She squealed as she eagerly hooked it up to the submarine's power line.

Law shrugged and said, "I merely assumed you didn't have any skills as a barista."

Lou turned and winked at him. "Oh well you're right. I'm more an amateur enthusiast. Used to own a coffee machine at Bella Fortuna, but it was simply too expensive to run and repair." She paused momentarily in thought. "But I suppose if you have so many mechanics aboard it'd be easy to keep running!"

With deft fingers that were surprisingly gentle for her obvious strength, Lou inspected the machine and fetched a tin of ground coffee beans she had spotted previously in the extensive pantry.

"Any orders?"

"I'm not sure I trust an amateur for this." Law remarked as he crossed him arm. Despite his refusal, Law was no less keen for a piping shot of pure caffeine to keep him going through the rest of the night.

"Oh but I'm the best amateur, I swear."

The nagging feeling of distrust tugged at Law's conscience. Such openness and immediate companionship from the woman was somewhat disconcerting for a man as reclusive as himself. It was as if the barrier between nervous acquaintances who have only recently met was bypassed by Lou and instead replaced with this assumed familiarity. Joking and closeness was almost foreign to Law due to his incessant need to distance himself from the term 'friend' or anything remotely similar to it. Yet his quick and aloof attitude was left unnoticed by the bubbly brunette.

In spite of his better judgment, Law relented to his desire to satiate his coffee addiction. Mere instant coffee would no longer suffice. "… Just an espresso."

"Boo, you're boring," Lou replied to Law's chargrin. "What about an affagato? Or a breve? Or even a corretto?"

"Espresso," Law murmured without so much as a hint of room to negotiate.

She shrugged in response and filled the coffee wrench with the strongly scented ground beans. The shrill whirring of the machine quickly filled the once quiet kitchen and within moments a murky liquid dribbled out into a small espresso glass. Lou swirled it for a few moments and sniffed the hot liquid, deeming it acceptable before handing it to Law with a smile. He grunted in thanks and took it from her. Having long missed what others considered a glass of pure bitterness, the man eagerly sipped at the opaque shot of coffee. It was smooth and downed within moments, barely managing to scald his tongue on its way day.

As Law placed the glass on the metal bench with the sensation of freshly made coffee warming his insides, he caught the expectant expression of the woman in front of him. With hands clasped in front of her thighs and saucer-like eyes staring up at him, she seemed the picture of innocence. Though the levelness of her voice when she spoke suggested anything but immaturity.

"Hope it's not terrible since I haven't used a coffee machine in a while."

He shook his head but hid his true enjoyment of the shot. "No. It was fine." Law offered her a nod and continued. "Finish your duties and head off to bed, Miss Lou. Breakfast starts at seven am on the dot."


	4. The One With the Silence

Dear **Volley-chan** , in spite of what you said about writing for my own enjoyment, at this point I find myself writing this story half to get my imagination out so I stop day dreaming, and half because of how much you love my story and your dedication to submitting killer reviews ^-^

With Lou's poor reading and writing skills, I kind of figured it made sense that if someone had an impoverished childhood then their literacy skills would not be top-notch. I feel like the small realistic details are missing from a lot of fanfics where the character had a rough upbringing the author doesn't want to explore the character being flawed in anyway. But I like my characters being really flawed because in some ways that's what truly makes them interesting. And not just the flaws of 'Oh I'm going to fight with Law and then get invited on the ship and he will immediately love my company' or simply 'I had a rough childhood with no real effect except for an arc in which we explore how I lost my whole family but have no genuine flaws from it'. Sorry for that rant but I feel like a read a lot of repetitive stories regarding Trafalgar Law that follows a recipe almost.

Also please don't hate me for the creative licensing over Law requiring glasses, I just figured he seemed like the kind of person who would work so hard he would eventually need glasses.

As usual, please enjoy and feel free to submit one-shot suggestions (smut, fluff, crack, etc.) if you've got any cool ideas.

Thanks xx

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A sense of defeated gratitude washed over Lou at the sleepy start to the morning, and by extension, breakfast. There was no pushing or flailing through the double doors of the mess hall, but the Heart Pirates simply trudged inside, feet slapping against the cool linoleum and tacky pajamas still worn. Most, aside from Shu, Bepo and some of the early risers, were still in their sleeping clothes which generally consisted of baggy boxers and an old t-shirt. Of course Shachi's shirt sported a large cartoon penguin inside a love heart, whilst his companion Penguin failed to show the same level of commitment and decided on a simple grey shirt.

Breakfast was an array of egg dishes, all served with either a hollandaise sauce or a form of spicy homemade chutney. It had taken Lou nearly an hour to cook all of the dough to make a large pile of naan bread for breakfast, yet half the time for them all to disappear. Nevertheless the transition from sleep-deprived proverbial zombies to alert and boisterous pirates was miraculous, and the chef couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her contribution to the shift in mood. Her idle fingers busied themselves by sweeping away discarded vegetables bits and storing what had not been used in the cool room, and emptying the pile of dishes into the sink. A few members stopped for brief small talk, which mainly consisted of discussing breakfast and Lou attempting to graciously accept praise for the meal, as weather was not a topic of discussion seeing as they were underwater and all.

The chef now found the submarine far less exciting than when she had boarded the previous afternoon, largely due to her inability to gage the time aside from what few clocks were scattered throughout the sub and the claustrophobic feeling that arose when one attempted to squeeze through particularly narrow hallways. However her crewmates were sympathetic to her efforts to adjust to sub life and so would often drop by during different parts of the day to entertain her with their company. By the end of lunch, Lou was sure she had met most of the crew, of whom two in particular stood out: Shu the specialised fisherman and Jonah the nurse.

Apparently Shu's position as fisherman doubled as both an ingenious way of fishing whilst remaining underwater and as a zoological expert on seakings, who were a very real threat to the Heart Pirates. His thin, broad-rimmed reed hat contrasted those of the normally smaller and more flamboyant hats of the rest of the crew, particularly in contrast with his immaculately worn boiler suit. The man was fairly quiet but seemed intelligent enough, able to engage Lou in conversation that extended beyond the meal they had most recently eaten. Yet even so this extended conversation was quite impersonal and direct.

Jonah, on the other hand, caught Lou's attention for a vastly different reason: his bad attitude. Worse than Penguin's in relation to her, the surly older man insisted he be referred to as a medical assistant on the off chance he decided to acknowledge her presence. 'Women are bad luck on ships', he would often repeat as he stroked his stubbly chin. That was one of the few words ever uttered to her by the male nurse before he would skulk off to the infirmary most likely. None dared to question their captain's decision to accept a female chef on an all-male submarine, though the occasional grumblings were often silenced by her food.

Conversion via food, Lou felt, was her most effective weapon to combat what minority was displeased with her presence aboard. And she was sure it would eventually win everyone over, as was the brilliant power of a good meal. Unfortunately though, Jonah was the over-floured cookie that had been left in the oven on high for a good twenty minutes too long: he was one tough cookie. Even as he came to fetch her for her check up and review of medical history, the man would not so much as look in her vicinity until she had arrived at what she presumed to be Law's office.

He skulked off with a sullen huff, and Lou was left to stare at the metal barred door in front of her. With a ginger knock, followed by a grunt of permission, the woman pushed the creaking door open and stepped inside. Apparently the infirmary doubled as the captain's office, complete with a neat row of sterile beds to one side, and the other housed his equally sterile metal desk that had been bolted to the floor. Behind the desk were rows of filing cabinets and disheveled books piled high upon one another until they nearly toppled. Dog-eared pages and sheets of paper protruding from their contents were prominent features of the books, along with long and excessive titles that Lou had trouble deciphering.

Lou had previously thought Law a meticulous man who held a keen eye for tidiness, or rather organisation, so that haphazard array of books was a surprise. The man in question caught her gaze and glanced back at the mess behind him.

"My office isn't normally this disorganised, I assure you," he drawled with half-lidded eyes. "A storm on our way to your island ripped my book case from its hinges and caused quite the mess so, naturally, I got rid of it."

She nodded and swallowed thickly at the subtle warning of his lack of sentimentality, all but declaring how only usefulness would keep one onboard the submarine. Although Lou knew she would only be staying with the Heart Pirates until a suitable replacement could be found, it remained disconcerting to consider being found useless and abandoned.

Law gestured to one of the two seats in front of his desk before sliding a thin stack of paperwork from a filing cabinet beneath his desk. Her eyes traveled over the paper quickly before realising it was a medical questionnaire. A pen was thrust towards her, which she gladly accepted, before the doctor reached for an open book on his desk and a pair of black rimmed glasses the hang off the front of his hoody.

"Fill in the form as truthfully as possible, Miss Lou. This is for both your safety and ease of convenience for me." Law muttered as his attention was firmly rooted in the book. His smokey eyes peered through the glasses with hawk-like focus that immediately caught Lou's attention.

The man's head was turned away and to the book, allowing Lou a full view of the side of his face as he leant back in his chair to read. Coffee-coloured skin derived from a genetic jackpot rather than years of labouring in the sun as Lou had done to receive her tanned skin, a strong jaw, sharp chin and straight nose had her vivid eyes fixated on him. She had seen statues carved from marble in rich men's hallways, but Law seemed to outdo them all. In spite of the obvious difference in muscle tone between the doctor and the statues Lou had marveled at in her youth, she couldn't help but note the lean strength in his toned body. There was a primal aggression in him Lou had not seen once during her placid two years on Cortula, but it was masked by a façade of cool detachment that Lou had yet to see crack. Nevertheless he put her on edge, which only added to his allure.

Like a ripening apple, Lou's cheeks quickly blossomed an intense shade of red when Law's eyes darted the corner to catch the woman staring at him. Vague amusement flashed across his face, signaled by the small curling of his lips, though he said nothing. The tell-tale blush of the chef was enough to confirm his suspicions: she was attracted him. Albeit it was a shallow attraction based on his appearance, but it was present nonetheless. He had noticed her lengthy staring and hair twirling earlier though didn't care to exploit it.

Yet.

Only the faint scratching of the pen against paper filled the infirmary as Lou had returned to filling out the pages dutifully. Her writing was straight and without any decorative curls, as if it the extra milliseconds required to do so was too much of a waste. A few words was incorrectly spelt, and as she continued to write it seemed more like the writing of a kindergartener than a twenty-year old woman. Law peered at the strange writing and the simple words used, that often trailed outside the designated answer spaces due to the excessive size of the letters.

"You write like a child."

Lou kept her head down, but the flush of embarrassment that bordered on shame was evident as it crawled from her neck up to her ears. Her pen stopped and hovered just above the paper.

"I never had much practice when I was young," she mumbled. "I never really went to school."

Law quirked an eyebrow and straightened himself a little. "You never went to school? And yet you have the writing skills of a ten year old."

"Yeah, I guess I do." Lou raised her head from the paper and gave an awkward smile that resembled a crooked grin. She didn't seem willing to divulge any personal information, though Law easily guessed she likely came from a poor background, which starkly contrasted his own upbringing.

Now only the pangs of grief were able to surface when Law thought back to Flevance as the rest had been buried deep inside to fester like an untreated wound. To a degree he had found his peace with their deaths in fulfilling his parents dream for him to become a doctor, though nothing could replace them fully. He had not started a family of his own, nor did he intend to at anytime. It felt like a betrayal to even consider it, and Law did not think himself the fatherly type anyway.

Nevertheless Flevance had been a city of great wealth and opportunity that bred highly educated citizens. Law supposed that poverty bred citizens who were either illiterate or poor at writing, as the new chef was. She seemed to struggle on a few words, though he could see her mouth moving as she attempted to silently sound them out. When she jotted down her answer not long after sounding out the lengthy or foreign words, Law could only assume that she was intelligent enough to understand the meaning of the words. Her dark chocolatey hair fell around her face much like a curtain, and her choppy fringe was brushed to the side to give her face a softer look.

When she had finished, Lou slid the paperwork across the metal desk towards Law who promptly began skimming through the messy scrawling. He readjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose and licked his thumb to flick through the pages. The motion was strangely human for the reserved and controlled captain, and Lou couldn't help but feel a stirring of warmth in her chest that made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"No allergies, no illnesses in the family, no history of mental health, vaccines are up to date and no drug abuse." He listed off the factors before flipping to one of the last pages. "Well you're healthy enough and, as entertaining as it would be to do some dirty work, it's important that my crew is healthy."

He paused and glanced up from the paperwork to stare at Lou. "But it says here you've had multiple broken bones?"

Lou visibly stiffened, drawing his attention immediately. She curled her hands further towards her stomach and felt the abnormal lumps and shape of the bones inside them.

"Yeah, just in my hands and wrists."

"Both of them?" Law asked and motioned for her to bring her hands forward. The woman placed her hands on the table face down and Law was quick to inspect them. His touch was surprisingly warm to match the enthralling shade of his skin, and the gentleness with which he handled her unattractive fingers was startling. With each twist and ghost of his fingers over hers, Lou could feel the same uncomfortable heat rise up in her chest like a fever.

However the doctor's attention was more rooted in the horrendous healing of her hands. He counted numerous fractures and complete breaks in her hands and wrists that resulted in the bone healing crookedly or forming irregular lumps over the cracks. It made her hands look older than they really were and he couldn't help but imagine the pain of having one's hands destroyed in such a way. He suspected blunt force trauma from at least the proximal phalange to the ulna, and concentrated at the scaphoid and capitate. Her metacarpal and distal phalanges, or her thumb and ends of her fingers, seemed fairly okay, having likely been set with some crude cast or stick.

"The heals look to old and permanent to fix properly, and you seem to manage fine considering you're a chef. Though you should have had this rectified immediately after the breaks." Law muttered before removing his hands from her mangled ones. The abnormal healing was a travesty to modern medicine as even the worst of doctors would know to operate and set screws in the victims hands before simply bandaging them.

Lou said nothing in reply, but merely nodded. She stared down at her open palms before clenching them. The action still hurt even eight years later.

Law didn't care to ask how the breaks happened, although he admitted curiosity to an incident that caused his chef's normally cheerful disposition to shift into a nervous and timid one. He guessed a distressing event yet said nothing of it; a sobbing woman was hardly what he needed at the moment. The thought of comforting someone sent an uninhibited shiver down his spine.

He removed his black wire glasses and rested them in the crook of the front of his hoodie. They hung limply with only one of the wire arms inside the hoodie to support it, whilst the light glinted off the thin lenses.

"As for your reasons for agreeing to be our chef, I would appreciate a forewarning if any lifelong grudges or revenges will be in your near future? You see I don't appreciate any of my crew starting shit that ceases to be a problem for only the individual. Simply put, Miss Lou, I don't care to be included in trivial matters."

Lou waved a hand at him and replied, "No need to worry, Captain. I'm not looking for revenge, just looking for my family."

"Very well, though we won't be going out of our way for you."

"It's okay, when I was little we lived on Jeroa Island, and it's only a few islands away from here," Lou said and leant her cheek on her fist. "It won't be out of your way."

Law nodded and brushed dust off the pile of books stacked by his desk as if prepping to read them. "And you'll be staying with them once you find them?"

She tilted her head back slightly to think before looking back at him. "No, I don't think I could." White teeth bit into her lowly lip slightly as she debated whether or not to bother sharing her personal information. "My parents gave me up, I doubt they'd want me back now of all times."

In saying they 'gave her up' Lou was understating the situation, when in fact they had sold her to the local royal house. For how much and for what reason, she had not the slightest idea; though she supposed asking them why they had given up their youngest child would finally bring her some closure. Her eyes flickered up to Laws, only to find he had mimicked her pose while his eyes contained not the slightest sliver of sympathy. They were hard and unwavering, staring directly into hers. Lou had guessed that he was too indifferent to give much thought to her upbringing, and so it was no surprise when he offered no condolences.

Instead he waved her off and said, "If that's all then you may get back to your duties. And take that uniform with you." An egret like finger pointed to a lonesome boiler suit that hung by one of the infirmary beds.

Lou sighed and thought, _Really, Captain, you're taking this indifferent thing too far._

Nevertheless she said her thanks and swiftly exited the office in search of the kitchen after slipping into the boiler suit. Without Jonah to guide her back, Lou was left to wander the halls of the sub aimlessly. When walking to the office she had attempted to make mental notes of key turns and features that would guide her back, which would have been helpful, had the halls not looked identical from every direction and angle. So after what she believed to be at least half an hour of wandering she finally found her way to a large barred door with the words 'Navigation Room' inscribed on it. Above the door was a large red light that occasionally flashed red, so Lou guessed it was some sort of alarm light.

She rapped her knuckles against the door and waited for someone to answer. A few moments later, and following the clicks and creaks of locks being undone, the door was etched open to reveal a broad white face and a pair of beady, black eyes. Bepo stared down at her, but did not open the door any wider.

"Oh it's the chef," he mumbled with a confused expression. "This isn't the kitchen."

Lou smiled awkwardly at his innocent bluntness. "Ah yeah, I know it's not I'm just lost. Couldn't find my way back from the Captain's office."

"Oi, Bepo! Is that the idiot cook?" Penguin's voice reverberated from inside the navigation room and sounded tinny due to the metal walls. It still rung with the current of distaste which made Lou wrinkle her nose in annoyance.

"Lou isn't an idiot, Penguin," Shachi called back before his head appeared below Bepo's in the door way. "Don't listen to him, his just a big jerk."

"Oh well if she ain't an idiot why are we engineers and she's a cook?"

Shachi's head disappeared and wrestling could be heard from Lou's side, causing her to cringe and the sound of body parts colliding with metal. The polar bear in front of her also glanced back, but with more disinterest as he was used to their bickering. The dispute was solved almost as quickly as it had been started and so Shachi pushed his way past the hulking first mate to Lou's side. There was a red fist-sized mark on his cheek and his clothes seemed a little disheveled, but his was otherwise unharmed.

"I'll show you the way back to the kitchen!" He declared and pulled the woman by her elbow through the halls. "Don't worry if you get lost in your first few weeks. It happens to everyone 'cos the halls and rooms have to be built around the machinery, especially the big parts like the condenser and camshaft."

Lou couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm in his voice and the boyish grin that crawled onto his pale face at the discussion of the sub. It appeared to be his pride and joy. At her growing smile, Shachi felt an unwanted blush appear and jerked his head to the side to avoid being caught out. The gentle, swan-like crook of her neck was made visible as she swept her hair to the side and the shadow created by the cleavage of her breasts was in his directly line of view. He knew this was likely the exact reason it was supposedly bad luck for women to be aboard any ship, but the pinch of feminine beauty amidst a crew of foul-smelling males was almost irresistible.

The man swallowed thickly in an attempt to calm himself as he escorted her to the kitchen. "What cabin are you staying in?"

Blue eyes glanced at him with calm sincerity. "Yours."

At that moment the mechanic felt a nervous twist in his gut and a pang in his chest. Captain was making the temptation too difficult, and he never once doubted the woman's words. But he had not seen the woman nor her belongings in the cabin which he shared with Bepo and Penguin the night before. He took a shallow breath to calm down.

"M-My cabin?" The incidental stutter made him cringe at his own nervousness.

"Apparently it was the only one with a spare bunk, but I didn't have time to dump my stuff there because of dinner last night, and I fell asleep in the kitchen as well." She shrugged and continued. "Maybe tonight I'll have enough time to get to bed. If I can find it that is! You guys should really invest in some signs or something 'cos this is bloody ridiculous!"

With a hefty chuckle, Shachi rubbed the back of his head. "You'd think we would, but we never got around to it. When we built this sub we were thinking about practicality too much to consider the smaller details." He said before looking ahead of them to the end of the hall. "Oh, we're here."

The white double doors leading to the mess hall were a welcome sight and Lou pushed them open gently, taking in the scent of the vegetable stew she had left simmering over the multiple stoves during her visit to the infirmary. Delicate aromas of thyme and rosemary mingled together with the tang of citrus juice present in it that slowly condensed into the broth that was forming. It passed them in waves that only heightened Shachi's excitement for lunch. Thus far none of the meals produced by smaller woman beside him had been anything short of spectacular in their simplicity. They reminded him of home and a warm fire, rather than the cold, dark submarine they were in. It was a welcome change from old bread and poorly made stew.

But as soon as lunch was served, preparation for dinner came and passed in the blink of an eye. Scheduling for kitchen hands was organised to have a rotational fill of helpers in serving and washing up, though this excluded Bepo and Captain. But once again Lou found herself alone, long after most had finished their meals and headed off to bed, prepping scraps for weekly bubble and squeak (A/N: this is a kind of leftovers mish mash meal). She had kept a keen eye out for Law, whilst allowing Bepo to raid the fridge for cold tuna, though he had failed to make an appearance. Nor had he attended lunch for that matter.

The better half of her instincts told her to leave him be, all the while the chef inside would not lay this matter to rest. Late breakfasts and no other meals was a surefire way to convince one's body that it was undergoing starvation and causing all sorts of detrimental effects such as exhaustion, headaches and strangely enough weight gain. When the body does not receive the quantity of nutrients and energy required to function optimally, it stockpiles what it can afford in anticipation of famine. Surely Law's medical background taught him that much, heck every half-intelligent being knew skipping meals was bound to have at least _some_ adverse affect upon the body. Yet there she stood in her new kitchen contemplating whether or not to bring him his dinner.

Lou leant against the metal counter and thought better of the decision and so set about scooping a large plate of that night's dinner, heating the naans and preparing an espresso. Considering their previous interaction over his bitter drink, she supposed it was a modest method of breaking through his stiff façade.

However by the time she had finally stumbled her way through the complex halls and found herself in front of his office doors, the naans had already cooled and neither the baked dinner nor the espresso were piping hot. Upon knocking, she promptly let herself in, pushing on the door with her back whilst inching through with a large wooden tray laden with food and coffee.

"What's this?" Law questioned at his seat behind the desk. She was somewhat surprised to find the man exactly as she had left him, though supposed he was likely reading some intellectually exclusive book on a topic equally as irrelevant to her.

She set the tray on the edge of the desk before unloading its contents onto his desk. "Clearly it's the dinner _and_ lunch you conveniently decided to skip."

Law inspected the flat yet soft form of bread between his tanned fingers. The lack of genuine curiosity or appetite was rather disheartening to say the least, particularly as he merely prodded the fillet steak with disinterest. He rolled a few of the steamed and baked vegetables about the plate like a distracted child but made no effort to actually eat, instead choosing to down the espresso.

"You don't need to bring me food, nor do you need to worry about me. I am an adult and shall care for myself accordingly." He state in a gruff voice that left no room for argument. The intrusion of comfort was treated like a threat and promptly dealt with through a stern tone.

"Well as a chef I think it's my job to worry if someone isn't eating," Lou replied as a small grin appeared. "Especially when it's my food! Besides, everyone needs someone looking out for them… Even a captain."

He stared her for a long moment, an unrecognisable emotion glimmered in his grey orbs for the briefest second before evaporating into his previous bored expression. Leaning back into the armchair he further inspected the food before gathering a variety of food upon his fork.

"I don't enjoy people watching me eat," Law murmured, causing Lou to flush with embarrassment at being caught staring. The action elicited a confident smirk from the pirate and he proceeded to eat slowly.

As he had guessed, while the outside of the fillet steak was crispy and dark, the inside was still moist and pink. As he cut through the tender meat, the milky brown pepper sauce dribbled down the inside as steam rose up from the recently sliced meat. Buttery yellow baked potatoes and steamed vegetables lay to the side of the steak, vivid in colour and lightly seasoned with cardamom and paprika to give at that extra kick that made his taste buds dance in excitement. The food was sublime, to say the least. Yet Law's deliberate movements were slow, easing each morsel to his lips with feigned apathy towards the meal.

"Naan is an odd choice to accompany every meal, Miss Lou." He simply stated after swallowing a mouthful of food.

Lou rubbed the back of her head and explained, "Oh well bread was out of the question since it's a fattening source of carbohydrates, seeing as most breads only use the starchy endosperm, and remove the fibre-dense bran and nutrient-rich germ." She then motioned to the naan. "But naan has less salt, sugar and preservatives, and is overall more healthy."

"You seem to know a lot about nutrition."

"Good food leads to good health!" Lou replied quickly. "Our jobs practically work hand in hand."

The captain grunted in reply and continued to silently eat his food, leaving an almost strained silence to hang over the pair.

"…When will we reach the next island?"

He kept his eyes on the meal whilst answering, "Ask Bepo, he's the navigator."

Another pregnant pause. "Have you read all these books?"

"Yes."

"… Are they any good?"

Tinny clanking broke the atmosphere as Law set his knife and fork on the porcelain plate, his delicate fingers nudging the utensils until they were completely parallel to one another and perpendicular to him. Lou could sense that the faux attempt at small talk was irksome, though the overwhelming urge to talk was irresistible.

"In order to avoid this menial small talk and pointless chattering I eat in my office for a reason," Law snapped. He then massaged his temple with those same delicate fingers. "If you insist on not leaving then can you at least not talk?"

 _Someone's a bit testy tonight_ , Lou thought, noting how his normally easy going charm was short lived. It seemed the honeymoon period had come and gone within the space of a day, and the suave character was replaced with an ill-tempered one. However this ill-tempered Law seemed more natural, as if the real human beneath finally overrode the façade of cool detachment. This natural reaction was almost as attractive as his mannerly charm that had initial drawn her to him. Lou was taken aback by his sudden change in character, but smiled gently in the hopes of diffusing his irritation.

"Sorry, Captain. I'll be quiet." She drew an imaginary key across her closed lips and flicked the similarly imaginary key into the corner, resorting to sitting in the chair in front of his desk. A thick, red rimmed book on his desk titled 'Thoracic Aortic Dissection Repair' caught her attention and she drew it into her lap only to be stopped by a tattooed hand. For the first time Lou's blue eyes were drawn the 'DEATH' tattoos imprinted on his fingers like a foreboding indication of his victim's imminent future.

"That's an expensive book and complicated surgery." The hand seized the book and moved it to a smaller pile behind the desk, and replaced it with a thinner book marked 'Orathon's Principles and Doctrine's'. "Start with this one, it's simpler for your small labourer's mind."

The cocky smirk in his voice was obvious and Lou humoured his deprecating version of wit by taking the book with both hands, feeling the strange embossed cover beneath her fingers. Dog eared corners and small tags jutted out from the book indicating that it was used often enough. She flipped through a few pages, unsure of majority of the words yet able to slowly work her way through the first few pages. Although her reading skills were certainly above those of her writing skills, the content was still on a comprehension level far above her own.

So she opted to sit in his company and examine the diagrams, while occasionally glancing up to examine Law's bespectacled face which was buried deeply in thick medical textbook. The atmosphere had shifted to one of comfortable companionship, or at least not a dislike of the other's presence.

Lou couldn't help but smile to herself behind her book.

Food really was the only means of conversion.


	5. The One With the One Hit KO

Chapters will also be updated a little less for the next few months as I'm flat out with work, and currently in the process of losing my home which is very stressful in itself.

Sorry for the slow lead up to the interactions between Law and Lou, and I do worry that perhaps there is too much menial filler? I try to space out the talking so that it's not all chatter chatter chatter instead of genuine interactions. This story is entirely my interpretation of Law and how he acts as a character based on what I've seen from the manga and anime, and I think sometimes as an author you can become mixed up in the fanfiction you read and canon on how a character acts and thinks, so I've tried not to let my writing be influenced by other authors' interpretations of Trafalgar Law.

Anyway thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

As usual, please enjoy and feel free to submit one-shot suggestions (smut, fluff, crack, etc.) if you've got any cool ideas.

Thanks xx

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After perhaps nearly a week aboard the submarine, Lou had finally sunk into a comfortable rhythm of preparing three meals a day for a crew of eighteen starving men. Her bunk was neat, with a few photos of her, Malia and the Cortula scenery plastered on her wall to remind her of peaceful time on the quiet island. It had taken her a few nights to come to terms with Shachi and Penguin's unbearable snoring, and Bepo's occasional sleep talking (which typically consisted of mumblings about female bears).

When not on duty, the men often played card games and gambled, or would venture into the kitchen for a snack only to be berated by the chef over how snacking was unhealthy. However Lou would occasionally relent and make small pastries that were barely out of the oven when they would be snatched up by crewmates.

But never Law, for he seemed to prefer spending his time reading or reviewing the navigation room to discuss plans with his inner circle of Bepo, Penguin and Shachi. Naturally as chef Lou didn't interact with her captain as much as she would have liked, which was due in part to her time consuming responsibilities. Her job was a race against time that often left her rushing until the scheduled meal had to be ready. Though she continued to make time at the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning on occasion to bring dinner and an espresso to Law.

Lou had long since learnt not to press the pirate for small talk, instead opting to only question him about the books he gave her to read. For instance, the term 'allelopathy', which was apparent pronounced alley-op-ah-thee strangely enough, was so foreign to her that it sent Law into a long-winded explanation of the way in which certain trees poison the soil around themselves to prevent to growth of others. In spite of the information being totally irrelevant to her, it broadened her understanding of the world that had for so long been secluded to her own experiences. And it seemed as though Law himself was enjoying the boost to his intellectual ego that accompanied an explanation of what was, to his mind, such a simple concept.

Whilst their discussions hardly strayed from an intellectual one or beyond the nutritional value of Lou's food, she could not help but feel her chest tingle with every one of their interactions. He was a complicated man whose true feelings were tucked away in some dark part of him, shadowed by his gentlemanly manners and honey voice.

He would occasionally mention the crews travels to islands before Lou had joined, and the way in which he described trees broader than buildings and monkeys who stole the faces of men to wear as their own, was so fantastical she could hardly believe any of it had actually occurred.

Over the intercom Bepo announced that they would be approaching land before dawn after more than a week of being underwater. Almost unanimously the crew sounded sighs of relief before whooping and hollering at the top of their lungs. Lou couldn't help but beam alongside their excitement to finally be taking a gulp of fresh air and feeling the sun on their backs.

"On occasion if the Marines are hounding us we may be submerged for more than a month until it's safe to surface again," Law added upon seeing her excitement to finally reach land. "So there's no need to be so excited over such a short trip."

Lou attempted to stifle her smile, only to find it slipping through again. "I just haven't left Cortula for two years except on small fishing trips. Sorry, Captain."

"We won't be staying for long, only until the log pose sets-" The captain was interrupted by the jolting of the ship as scrapped against the docks of the new island. Irritation flashed across his face before the intercom _dinged_ to signal it had been switched on again.

As if on cue, Bepo's muffled voice could be heard, "Sorry, Captain." As quickly as it had been switched on, it was off again.

The man in question rolled his eyes and sauntered down the hall towards the entrance of the submarine, gesturing for Lou to follow. She rushed to his side and looked up his tanned face. It was set in his detached façade once more, irking her slightly.

"You'll be responsible for provisions and the like," he said whilst handing her a few beli from his pocket. "Don't exceed this and buy enough to fill both the cool room and the pantry in case we're submerged for an excessive amount of time. I'm assuming the sides of the submarine will likely need fixing, so for this visit you will also supply enough fresh water to fill the tanks. I'm sure Shu explained how we fill the sub?"

"Ah yeah… Green cap is for fuel, blue cap is for fresh water only," Lou recited and counted the two different tanks on her fingers. Shafts of pre-dawn light peaked through the already opened entrance along with a gentle warm breeze that tinkled her cool cheeks.

"And this goes without saying: don't cause trouble where it's not due."

"When is it due?" She queried, only to receive a blank stare from her captain.

"You'll know."

 _Oh very helpful, Captain. That's not cryptic at all,_ Lou thought to herself with a small pout. Law was often cryptic and non-specific with his words, instead choosing to trust the better judgment of his relatively mature crew. This left a lot of grey area and was subject to heated arguments amongst crew members which again Law left for them to deliberate upon until it became a serious matter.

Law pushed the large arched door open and Lou winced at the metal-on-metal creaking that resounded from its hinges. The deck was still soaked, though a few of her crew mates were busy scrubbing away the water before it evaporated and left a layer of snow-like salt behind. Law was meticulous about the state of the submarine, preferring it to be sterile and pristine than have to deal with issues that arose from poor maintenance. It often left the majority of the sub smelling like a recently disinfected hospital, though Lou somewhat enjoyed the scent.

The deck was almost level with the dock, though it was more than two metres away from it due to the oblong shape of the sub that was submerged which prevented it from getting any closer. Penguin and Shachi gracefully leapt from the deck to the dock with little effort, followed by Bepo who was childishly complaining about the pair trying to leave him behind.

Due to his height, Law easily stepped from the deck onto the wooden platform that connected the submarine to the port with little more than a slight hop, leaving Lou to stare down at the gap of lapping waves. The water was a deep blue, indicating that the water was definitely deep enough for her to not reach the bottom.

Shachi turned back, noticing the chef's worried expression over what he considered a small distance. "I-I'll help you, Lou! Just wait right there-"

Before he could finish, his captain held out a tattooed hand in an oddly gentlemanly fashion, to which Lou accepted with a burning face. She stepped out off the submarine with a newfound confidence, only to drop slightly before Law hoisted her the rest of the way. Lou stumbled on the dock before regaining her balance by gripping the pirate's forearm. The hot flush of her face was painfully obvious, particularly when she jerked her hands back after touching him. Law's expressionless face never turned to her, remaining focused only on the town before them.

He made a comment that was too muffled to hear, though was apparently humourous as Lou stifled a small giggle behind her hand. Shachi knew that was the way women typically swung when around the crew, but nevertheless it left hot feeling in his mouth that was unpleasant to say the least. Penguin jerked him towards the town to explore and look for spare parts, leaving the external repairs to the lower mechanics.

The town itself was similar to Cortula in its appearance, playing by the white and blue theme that mimicked that of the Marines, with tall buildings that formed neat corridors of pavement. A blue tiled dome and iron wrought sea gull peaked out above the buildings, indicating that a Marine fort was indeed present. And a large one at that. A lone marine booth was positioned near the docks with a defiant lieutenant inside, glaring them down in his impeccable uniform. His neatly trimmed blonde moustache twitched with irritation as Penguin and Shachi passed him with mock salutes.

Next Lou and Law passed, and the marine uttered them a stern warning. "Don't go makin' any trouble now, you pirates," he hissed, pulling the cap further down his face. "We've all heard about you Trafalgar Law, and we won't be takin' no shit from you."

Law tilted his head, hand on nodachi and a cocky smirk playing on his lips. "We come in peace, Lieutenant. You leave us alone and we won't stir the pot."

"Yeah right, you're a scheming pirate, all you north blue lot are the same." Law's smirk never faded at the words. "You think you're invincible, Trafalgar. But true justice always prevails."

A middle finger with the letter 'A' tattooed on it was stuck up at him, inching perhaps too close to the booth which caused the marine to scowl venomously in response. His knuckles turned a sickly shade of white as he gripped his rifle and glared down the far stronger pirate in front of him.

"Captain Urumeshi will capture you, mark my words."

Law grunted and narrowed his eyes before holding out his open palm as a whirling blue circle appeared in it. The woman beside him gawked as it grew exponentially to encapsulate the tree of them, and the lone lieutenant scrambled to get out of the dome. It was a thin, intangible film of clear blue light that seemed to be constantly shifting along the surface. Lou dared not reach out to touch it, but her attention was drawn back as Law spoke.

"Room… Shambles."

He drew his nodachi and sliced it in the lieutenant's direction, and both Lou and the marine firmly shut their eyes on anticipation of his death. She had never enjoyed watching violence, even towards those who likely deserved what they had coming. A person's body was intact for a reason and to see sprays of blood and entrails hanging out of one's abdomen was not appealing. However instead of screams of agony and hot liquid petering against her skin, there was the whirring of wind and silence.

Lou dared to open her eyes, only to find something far stranger than anything she could have ever imagined: his decapitated head and limbs were floating around him, sliced cleanly through so the bones, muscles and tendons could be seen though not a single drop of blood was present. The marine's eyes were wide with the whites of his eyes nearly engulfing the iris in their fear. His lower jaw trembled with the shaking that often accompanied screams of terror, yet only strained squeaks escaped his throat.

The limbs and head defied gravity by whirling around the dome until they rearranged themselves so his arms were where his legs needed to be, his head at his right shoulder, right arm in left socket and the left arm atop his shoulders where his head should have been. Lou could only gawp at the strange, disfigured marine that had been created at the command of the pirate.

"I-I'm not dead…?" He queried, awkwardly bending his arm which was bowed upwards to feel his body.

"No, Lieutenant," Law mused as he sheathed his nodachi and rested against his shoulder once more. "But I assure you in a few days, you wish you were."

The marine was frozen in terror and shock, all his muscles quivered as the hairs on his forearms were raised. She gulped and fought to tear away her eyes from the Quasimodo-esque creation Law had produced only to find he had moved on from the situation and was making his way towards the town with a hand casually tucked in his pocket. His black and yellow hoodie was almost loose fitting from behind as if to highlight his slim figure that slouched in spite of his height. The small heel of his boot was so light on the ground and hardly made a sound, resembling a cat in his languid confidence.

Without glancing back to the marine, Lou quickened her pace to match that of her captain's. "How did you do that?"

"That was my operating room." Law's eyes never strayed from the late dawn town as he continued towards it. "I have complete control of everything in that space."

"Is it a Devil Fruit?" She asked with wide eyes as she stared up at him.

His eyes flickered briefly down to her and he adopted a humoured smirk, saying, "Have you ever seen someone do that _naturally_?"

Lou felt the indignation rise up in her at the mocking tone of her voice, but it was quickly quelled after second guessing her own question. In reality it was a silly question as the answer was clearly 'yes', although it went unspoken. The pair was silent for a long time as they strolled through the wakening town and the silent streets quickly erupted into the sounds of early morning trade. Fishmongers' voices lifted above the growing crowds of civilians to sell that morning's catch, and fresh produce lined the streets in colours so vivid that Lou guessed that could only have been picked that morning.

"Purchase what you need and have the crew come and pick it up," he said to her with half-lidded eyes. "Then source some fresh water, preferable close enough to the coast to pump directly into the sub."

Lou raised her flat hand to her own forehead in a lazy salute, saying, "Aye, Captain. Won't let you down."

Finding good quality produce was easy enough as it was a normal daily task for Lou when she ran Bella Fortuna, though the islanders seemed more interested in hustling how for outrageous deals than driving an honest bargain. At times she felt her voice rising and a scowl appearing, though she quelled it to remain civil and avoid trouble as she had been ordered to do.

The arms of the jumpsuit were tied around her hips, allowing the cool ocean breeze to graze across her tanned skin as it snaked itself up through the market. Vendors held down their wares and many clutched hats to their heads to prevent them being carried off by the wind. Lou hadn't noticed how much she had missed the simple pleasures of an ocean breeze until she caught herself grinning broadly at the sensation of wind on her skin. It was strong enough to pull some strands of hair from her braid and send them whipping across her face, temporarily blinding her.

She reached up and swiped them from her face until a large shadow blocked the strong sun and obscured her view. Lou came face-to-face with a broad, uncovered chest that was littered with pockmarks and scars. An obscene layer of hair covered his chest, causing her to immediate step away to avoid staring to closely at it. Looking up, a sneering, middle-aged face glared back down at her as a man loomed over her. His superior height meant he was practically standing over her in a domineering manner that raised the hairs on the back of Lou's neck. Behind him stood a group of shabbily dressed me armed with nail-filled planks, pipes and other homemade weapons.

"We don't want much of a struggle, pirate," he hissed, attracting the attention of some passerby's, though they hurried along for fear of becoming involved. "Walk towards the alley and let us cuff you quietly, and you might get an imprisonment deal rather than execution."

"E-Excuse me?" Lou stuttered and glanced around at the quickly clearing marketplace. Clearly the locals were aware of the danger, or perhaps knew who this group of poorly dressed thugs was. Her mind raced, though it drew out the key word of 'execution', indicating that they were likely pirate hunters; though apparently not particularly good ones.

The leader tutted and said, "Don't you get it? This is a kidnapping. You do what you're told and you don't get gutted." He flashed a small shiv from his pocket as a warning before letting it go to cross his arms. The shiv itself was crudely cut and rusted, missing pieces of the edge to make it more jutted and dangerous than a clean knife. Rust and rough edges caused bacterial infections and severe scarring, both of which Lou hoped to avoid.

"Look I don't know why you're targeting me!" Lou squeaked. "I'm just the chef, you won't get much for me!"

A vicious sneer returned to his face. "Maybe not, but it'll be enough for lunch." He paused almost thoughtfully with a hand beneath his chin before continuing, "If you scream enough at your execution that is."

"What happened to imprisonment?"

"Whatever. Just cooperate, pirate," the pirate hunter snapped and placed a large hand on her shoulder. The grip he subsequently held her with was painful enough to leave vivid red finger prints on her skin and cause her to flinch away. She jerked herself back in fright, though he continued to advance.

 _Just remember what Shachi taught you…_ _Just remember what Shachi taught you…_

Lou recited in her head, thinking back to their training sessions: firm stance, crooked arms, upright position and swing. Her balance and speed were poor, though her unnatural strength tended to make up for it in most situation. As the man reached out again to grab her wrist, she planted her feet firmly on the cobbled ground and raised one knee to his rib height.

The pirate hunter barely flinched at the movement, as if expecting only a light tap though was sorely mistaken as he felt two ribs crack and pierce through the entire width of his left lung. It was a short, sharp pain that left his head spinning, unable to comprehend anything but the agony in his chest, which felt clogged with a hot sticky liquid he couldn't identify. His dark eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed to his knees before toppling face down onto the ground.

A breeze blew over him, gently tugging at his hair and the pain in his chest seemed to fade alongside the irresistible urge to rest. His heart seized around the jagged piercing of bone that had pierced it and went limp. The man had died quickly whilst his blood seeped through the gaps of the cobblestone.

There was a cry of horror from those who had spread out to avoid the commotion at the sight of his lifeless body slumped on the ground. Lou stared down at the amassing blood then back up at the enraged lackeys that were shadowed by the alley.

 _Shit… Didn't mean to kill the guy, even though he was gonna kidnap me_ , Lou said to herself. The guy was a kidnapper and likely a murderer, and in some strange sense it settled Lou's heart to consider it self-defense. A tremble was evoked in her limbs but was interrupted by the battle-cry of angered pirate hunters advancing towards her with weapons raised.

Lou quickly swiveled on her heel and bolted in the other direction, forearms pressed on her breasts to prevent the unavoidable pain derived from running. Her legs were shorter and fitness most probably poorer than the hunters, yet adrenaline alone seemed to carry her through to the deepest parts of town so overshadowed by tall buildings that the air was significantly cooler than at the outskirts. Likewise it was quiet, more residential with little activity occurring.

She had lost them at least two kilometres back, and she still ran until she was heaving for breath. Red blotches covered her body and dark hair was plastered to her forehead and neck by sweat. Lou leant against an apartment building, feeling the unmistakable quiver of exhaustion in her thighs and arms. She knew she was hopelessly lost and would likely be in trouble from Law for causing a scene when she had been specifically ordered not to, although the trouble had found Lou first. It was pure self-defense as she was in immediate danger of being kidnapped and possibly executed, or at least Lou thought it was. The difference in strength between the aggressor and the defender were significant, giving Lou an almost unfair advantage in spite of her being the victim. Panic had set in when she struck him; even if was only with a partial amount of her strength.

He wasn't her first instance of killing in self-defense, though it still left her shaken. With her back against the wall, Lou leant for a long while to still her heart and thoughts before trudging off down through the laneways created by the tall, white buildings. She meandered about until she came across a main street with a few signs and followed them back to the market.

It was doubtful that they would expect her to return to the market, though as a precaution she travelled through the smaller side streets until she could collect the produce. Crate upon crate were stacked on Lou's shoulder by the time she had finished, causing civilians to stop in their tracks and gawk at her immense strength as she balanced more than 200kg of crated food on her shoulder back to the docks.

One of the older chemists, Gerard, met her at the sub as her eyes drifted to the deep gashes and scattering of blood on the docks. He caught her eye and shot her a sympathetic look before helping her unload the food into the sub.

"So uh… Lou, right?" She nodded in response to his husky-voiced question. "Some dodgy pirate hunters came 'round here about an hour ago to get revenge for something you did while you was out."

 _Well that would explain the damage to the dock and the blood…_ Lou thought with her mouth firmly shut. She could predict were the conversation was leading.

"The crew made light of work 'em, but Captain he uh… Let's just say he ain't in the greatest of moods," he drawled was a demi-worried expression as he placed a crate of oranges in the cool room. "'Don't cause trouble' is a rule for a reason, kiddo."

Her blue eyes met his ashy green ones with a defeated look. "Those pirate hunters thought I was worth something and wanted to sell me to the Marines for execution. What was I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, come and find us maybe?" The older man shook his head at her. "You're new to this whole 'pirate' thing so you probably just don't get how it works: you cause a commotion then we have a rowdy trip on the island which sets us behind schedule and royally pisses off Capt'n."

Gerard paused and examined the woman in front of him, noting the darkening bruises on her shoulder and the worried furrow of her brow. She seemed innocent enough, perhaps too reactive for the crew and their captain's calculating ways. He wondered how long she would truly last aboard the ship even though her food was consistently sublime.

"This sub works like clockwork, and our schedule even more so, you get? We take care of enemies quietly and don't mess 'round in others' business," Gerard continued in a more informative tone as he watched the chef rip the lids of the wooden crates clean from their hinges without the slightest effort. At first, when Shachi and the others had blabbered on about her unnatural strength, he had thought it mere gossip and exaggeration, yet upon hearing of her landing one hit to kill a man, carrying multiple crates upon her shoulder and witnessing the aforementioned display, he couldn't help but marvel. She was nothing special physically, except leaning towards the chubby side and hardly toned.

Lou clicked her tongue and returned to unloading the produce, eliciting a sigh of dismay from the older man who promptly slunk out of the kitchen. The emotional drain was starting to kick in alongside a worrying knot that had begun to wind its way around Lou's stomach at the thought of Law being livid over her actions. She couldn't bear for him to lecture her for disobeying his commands so soon after they were issued.

Thus the woman thought it necessary to take the preemptive strike by way of food. With the fresh produce and specific flavours in mind derived from observing his reactions and eating speed towards varying dishes, Lou guessed Souvlaki was likely the best dish for the job. She seared the lamb slowly to cook the inside before searing the outer parts on a high heat until stripes of freshly grilled meat adorned the lamb. With deft hands she sliced cucumbers, crushed an array of spices such as cumin and coriander seeds, and stirred it together with her Greek Yoghurt.

Next she brewed a piping hot shot of coffee and placed it on a tray beside the neatly presented Souvlaki, which lay upon a shallow bed of boiled snow peas Law seemed to enjoy. After many late nights spent in his office simply sitting in his company, the winding route to his office was one of her best-remembered paths. By the time she reached his office and knocked, her stomach had already flipped over itself numerous times.

Her knocking was rewarding by a gruff 'come in', to which Lou slid the door open to face the silently frustrated doctor behind it. His grey eyes never once looked up to her, and the pirate's deliberate refusal to acknowledge her present was disconcerting to say the least.

Lou cautiously approached and set the tray on the desk where Law had been reading a relatively thick medical textbook. She swallowed thinly and brushed hair from her face, noting the thin sheen of sweat on her brow. Never had a man made he this nervous and, even by the point where she was standing before him and watching his engrossed expression, she was unable to determine whether such nervousness was due to her subtle crush or genuine fear for her position.

"I brought you some lunch, Captain," she coughed in a voice slightly too raised and phrased almost in a questioning way. Lou guessed he could sense her anxiety from the moment she entered the room.

Law made no move to respond.

"Look, Captain, I'm real sorry about what happened today. I didn't mean to kill that man but I was so panicked I just forgot about everythi-"

He held up a hand to silence her before dropping his wire glasses lower down his nose to look up at her, saying, "Do you understand what you did is wrong and why?" She nodded fervently. "Then don't repeat that mistake, Miss Lou."

"Y-You're not mad?" She queried in a shaky voice.

"If you were stubborn or were unable to comprehend how your actions impaired this crew, then I would be more made, although I do recall commanding you not to cause trouble," Law answered in a honeyed tone that almost had her weak at the knees. In spite of the, at times, cruel or humourless, that Law said, his smooth voice seemed to nullify any direct threat, which was often compensated by the intensity in his eyes.

His surprising fairness was yet another quality the caused her heart to pinch uncomfortably in delight.

"Yes, sir. Won't happen again."

Law grunted and reached for the skewered lamb Souvlaki and dipped it in the light cucumber and spice infused tzatziki . The scents were positively irresistible, though he would never admit it to his new chef, and it was certainly outdone by the taste. The lamb was perfect cooked and seared, light and tender though not so much that it fell apart under the slightest pressure like the meat of a curry would. Instead the simple flavours of the lamb beautifully complemented by the fresh bite of the yoghurt mix was nothing short of heavenly. The animal fats soaked up the spices perfectly and highlighted the faint spiciness of the cumin. As usual, the shot of caffeine was welcomed as the hot liquid filled his veins and caused the slight dilation of his pupils.

The pirate captain glanced up at the woman watching him expectantly for any reaction that might have played upon his face, though he gave none, instead lazily gesturing to the chair at the desk with his free hand.

"Do not stare, Miss Lou," he yawned. "At least sit. We have something to discuss."

Lou took a seat and clutched her elbows nervously. "You say discuss, but I feel like it'll be more of a lecture."

"Tell me what you did wrong," he commanded in a clipped voice.

"I killed a bounty hunter," Lou replied.

"As a pirate, that in itself is not inherently wrong." Law spoke around his food before swallowing it, feeling the warm flavours spark an odd sensation of pleasure on his pallet. "It's a given that you would want to defend yourself."

"Then I suppose it's because," she drawled in a speculative tone. "I did it in public and got you involved?"

Law laced his fingers together and settled his chin on them with a twisted smirk. "Brawns and brains, I see. " The sarcasm was rife in his voice, causing the woman in front of him to flush with embarrassment over his mocking. "As long as you understand what you have done wrong, then I have no qualms."

Her sensitivity regarding her lack of proper schooling was already emphasised by the apparent genius of the surgeon, but his awareness of this fact made it all the more worse. The smirk on his face seemed to be less attractive than his usual confident and lazy one that had flattered his face so well, likely due to the predatory glint in his eye of a cat playing with its food. He stared through her as though he knew all the intricacies of her life and thought process, yet only cared for the shallow image of an uneducated chef with great strength. It lit in her the barest flicker of resentment, although Lou continued to respect him as a man and a pirate.

Nevertheless she couldn't deny her obvious attraction to Law which was based perhaps on similarly superficial aspects of him being an attractive surgeon pirate. He successfully combined good looks and superior intelligence with the air of mystery and adventure associated with being a pirate and Lou recognised that she knew nothing of him beyond that.

She had briefly heard of his title as the Surgeon of Death, with old newspaper article mentions drifting about in the back of her mind. Cruel and calculating were the two repetitive words used to describe him, though it was in a much more complex way than perhaps the Celestial Dragons who only acted on unabashed whims evolved from centuries of uncontrolled power. Rather the cruelty was inflicted upon one for a specific reason instead of entitlement.

Lou's heart shifted, slowly, yet inevitably to a determined resolution: she wanted to know the true Law, more than skin-deep.


End file.
